


Welcome to the Show

by Narcis_The_Monk



Series: Lyrical Alternatives [3]
Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Biphobia, Coming Out, Homophobia, M/M, Toxic masculinty, breaking the mold in Hope County, i want my readers to stay safe, if i missed anything let me know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-04 12:58:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15841782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narcis_The_Monk/pseuds/Narcis_The_Monk
Summary: "Here we go, no solution--Strong undertow.Quite unfair, quite a pair--No box office..."John has gone back to Georgia, leaving behind an anxious Sharky that's being slowly consumed by his thoughts. He's doing the best he can to hold on, but why hasn't he called yet? Had John realized what a mistake he was? No, of course not. Meanwhile, his little truth comes out to the people he has left in his life.





	1. Makes Me Wanna Go

Sharky stood in front of the giant burn pit he’d constructed in the middle of his abandoned-trailerpark-turned-castle, flicking his lighter absently in his hand. Occasionally his eyes would dart down to the flames that circled his arm, knowing full well the image was just strengthening the siren song that called to him in the form of piled trash and debris his aunt had cleared out near the marina and delivered while he’d been out and about. It was begging to burn, and he was anxious to watch that beautiful flame eat at the pile with an eager mouth as it climbed higher into the sky until the smoke would inevitably draw attention. _‘I know my rights, and my name’s been clear for a while I think. Shouldn’t be anyone coming out here, telling me shit. Kinda wish they would though.’_

An image of John popped in his head and he smiled, before pondering to himself. _‘What would he think if he knew his boyfriend was itchin’ to burn the world up just cause he’s lonely?’_ He started pacing now, fingers still fiddling with his lighter as he stepped back to light a cigarette instead, eyes lingering on that twisting flame just a touch too long. He had been trying to keep this in control, some part of him always convinced that he had to break this tie to the destructive element he loved. No one had brought him things to burn until he was gone, and he had no excuse to be clearing brush around the area so he hadn’t really been able to act on the urge. _‘Plus John was here, and that bastard could charm me into tagging along with him everywhere. Surprised I wasn’t invited to dinner.’_

He was laughing at that, lifting a hand to scratch at his goatee with a content grin before he considered his earlier thought. _‘Are we boyfriends? He said we were whatever I wanted, whatever the fuck that means. Man can talk circles around a windmill and convince it to turn the other damn way, but fuck me if he ain’t pretty doing it.’_ He was blushing now, and for once he was glad to be alone in his thoughts as they shifted to the way the other smiled up at him from between his legs. He shook his head, resuming his pacing again. _‘To burn or not to burn…that’s the great fucking question everyone asks themselves right?’_

“Now come on Sharky, he said he had to get himself situated again and he’d call as soon as he was. So damn antsy, what the fuck is wrong with you?” He asked the question out loud and he sighed. “And I’m talking to myself now. It was only a matter of time, wasn’t it? Might as well get this over with, I’m gonna do it anyway.” He moved over, lighting the impromptu Molotov cocktail he’d fashioned to make it extra fun. After throwing it in the carefully constructed center of the pit—he knew how to put things so they’d catch safely—he couldn’t help the relief that swept over him. It took a lot of practice, and a lot of watching. The bottle shattered, scattering the blossoming plumes of flames across easily flammable branches and broken wooden chairs. _‘Glad they’re not wicker, they’d burn too fast and collapse it all too soon.’_

He pulled up an old lounge chair after he flipped on his stereo, glad he’d gotten the ice chest ready earlier. _‘I wonder what John would think if he knew I sat around most days drinking myself stupid and burning shit to fill a hole inside me?’_ He frowned at the thought, retrieving a beer to quench his sudden thirst before he had to force himself to watch the flames climbing up into the sky just like he’d predicted. Smoke billowed up, and the steady breeze helped carry it up and away without stoking the most destructive force that could consume Hope County.

He watched the twisting, blending reds and oranges tipped with golden yellows whose edges were always swaying and changing. They looked damn near perfect against the clear blue sky that might have rivaled John’s eyes. He thought it appropriate that a man that loved to fly free in so many ways had a piece of a sunny day forever trapped in his eyes. It matched his soul but he probably thinks he’s the deep blue velvet of the night sky because he’s a messy bitch that loves drama, but for some reason it pulled Sharky in more. _‘There’s never a dull moment with him, and I doubt there ever will be. We’ll always be laughing. I may be getting ahead of myself here, but I hope there’s a future.’_

His thoughts kept coming back to John, which brought forth insanely happy thoughts—but hiding in the back of them were heavier ones he was trying to outpace, but eventually they would catch him and drag him down into that pit inside of him that he was constantly trying to avoid. Jacob’s words rang in his head occasionally; _“It’s a small County, John. Everyone knows everyone here.”_ There was no malice in it but it raked across his nerves to leaving a gaping gash. Thank whatever being that was watching out for him that he was always good at smiling. “Can’t keep it to myself forever, and I don’t know why I want to.”

He had been so caught up in the fire-watching and his own thoughts that the music had been able to cover up the sound of the truck approaching and the door slamming, along with the footsteps that crackled just before the words escaped his mouth. “What are you keeping to yourself?” The sudden appearance of a familiar voice splitting his little world open had him screaming, and reaching beside him for his shotgun. He realized it was inside as he twisted off the chair onto the ground roughly, making sure to keep his beer level the entire time. If all else failed he could strike with that.

“Stop screaming, its just me!” The voice exclaimed and it took him a solid minute for the source of said voice to focus in and then for it to click as none other than his cousin, Hurk Jr. “I thought we made a promise not to hide shit from each other if it was life changing?”

“Who said it’s life changing?” Sharky asked before he closed his eyes to will his heaving chest to take deeper breaths so his heart could catch a break. _‘Fuck, I really did just take a blast to the moon for a minute there, didn’t I?’_

He opened his eyes to watch Hurk once again huff at him before he held up a finger. “Well One, that fire is a lot higher than it usually is.” Well, yeah, he got carried away in the construction of the tower when got to thinking again. “And B, you were spacing out way more than usual.” Another finger was added and Sharky squinted at him.

“Fair enough.” He admitted his defeat before he pulled himself back together enough to stand up. He’d lost his cigarette in the tumble, burning a new hole in his hoodie sleeve in the process—but at least he knew it was out because he’d snuffed the cherry with his own body. He finished off his beer and reached for another one.

“So what is it?” The prompting of what was eating at him had him dodging eye contact again, before he found another cigarette between his lips in the blink of an eye. His body was on autopilot as he lit it and righted the fallen chair that’d he’d taken down with him in a mess of kicking limbs.

He tried to think of how to phrase it, how to best work it out. “Just something I learned about myself.” He’d probably tell him later, probably admit to practicing what he preached to Hurk. He was his best friend, just happy when he was happy. He’s not going to judge, but that infernal voice in his head was whispering that he would. That they all would, that he’d lose the only people he had in his life because he hadn’t lived up to expectations that he’d never even considered before. He quickly lifted his beer up again and began chugging it.

“Is this a masturbation thing?” The question made him spit out the mouthful he’d had, and he was choking on bubbles as he pulled the bottle back to give his cousin an accusatory glare. “Wait, no—its got something to do with why I haven’t been able to find you all damn weekend!” He was blanching instead now, further mortified. Of course he’d want to hang out this weekend of all weekends.

“You really are psychic ain’t you?” Sharky teased before he made himself turn back to the fire and force his blush back down. _‘So I spent most of my life thinking I was straight. Turns out I’m not. Guess I’m bi? Fuck, I just like who I like I guess. Why does this have to be so complicated?’_

“Did you think I was pulling your leg?” Hurk laughed a bit from his side, once again blessedly dragging him out of his thoughts. “I’m a bone-a-fined psychic. Now what is it?” That didn’t sound quite right, but who was he to question him? _‘Wait, he asked a question again.’_

“I uh…I met someone. We spent the weekend together.” Sharky admitted now, sipping at his beer.

“For real? Well shit, man, when do I get to meet her?” His cousin was immediately excited, but he winced at the question still. _‘Gotta stop assuming shit, man.’_ “That is some big news, isn’t it? You don’t go no where man, how do you pick up more chicks than me?” Another wince, but he grinned quickly as he swallowed around the growing lump in his throat.

“It’s cause I’m funnier, Hurk. Everyone likes a sunbeam that don’t shy from the rain.” He’d practiced those words, kept that mindset for so long its all he knew and he clung to it tightly. “Pull up a chair and grab a beer.”

“I already did.” He turned to look and sure enough, he already dragged another lounge chair over and held a half drank bottle in his hand. “I’m always one step ahead of you, Sharky. You need to remember that.” _‘I really do, you wise motherfucker.’_

They sat in silence for a while, just the sound of quiet disco filling the space between them. He was trying to work up the nerve to blurt it out like he did everything, but every time he opened his mouth nothing would leave it. Of all the times to be at a loss of stupid shit to fill the void with, it was now when he was drowning in his own anxiety with a smile spread across his face as more and more self-deprecating thoughts flooded in against that dam in his conscious—always threatening to break it down once and for all.

“So what’s her name?” The question caught him off guard, and he answered it without a filter.

“John.” Sharky answered, and he found himself genuinely grinning at the sound of his name falling from his lips. “His name’s John. He’s a lawyer, and he’s moving out here to be closer to his family.” He was met with silence again, and it quickly became overbearing as he started worrying at the label of his beer. _’Say something.’_

“Well, shit. I’m just glad you told me.” Hurk answered with a laugh, blowing him away with the loud sound he honestly hadn’t been expecting. “Hey now, I’m gonna have to meet him if you’re smiling so big just talking about him and all. But man, it’d have been embarrassing if we met and I was expecting some chick. It’d throw me off my game and then I would have just ended up making a fool out of all of myself, stumbling over my words and what not.” He found himself laughing along with him, shaking his head. _‘See, you were right. He’s not upset. Quit whining so much.’_

“So…you’re not…freaked out or anything?” The question escaped Sharky before he could stop it, but maybe he just had to know.

The other seemed baffled by the very thought of his question, and he shook his head before he turned to eye him again. “Why would I be?”

“That’s…a damn good question.” It really was, because Hurk didn’t have a hateful bone in his body.

“Sharky, you gotta stop making mountains out of molehills. I’ve got your back no matter what cause I love you. You’re my family. And my best friend.” Comfort came with the words, a promise of peace he hadn’t realized he’d needed in the moment. He closed his eyes, soaking up every last bit of the oath so he could let his muscles unwind more and he found himself actually lounging in his chair as he noticed the flames had crawled down from the sky a bit more. “Now when am I gonna meet him? John , you said. What’s his last name?”

“Seed.” He hummed as he said his name again, glancing towards where he’d sat the cordless phone in the open window of his trailer. “And he comes back in two weeks.”

“Oh shit, you snagged a Seed?” Hurk was giving him a shocked look, and he realized how everyone in the County only really knew the family was an enigma wrapped in a mystery dropped smack dab in the middle of a conspiracy.

“Yeah, guess I did.” He was laughing at the realization, some kind of twisted pride forming in it. Everyone wanted to know the Seed family, and here he was dating one. He wondered how many people would come to him with bullshit stories about them when word got out who he’d been seeing.

“Well tell me everything then! Start from the beginning—this is the happiest I’ve seen you in a while, Sharks.” He was being prompted again, and before he knew it he was telling their story to someone not in his head with so much exhilaration rushing through him again. He had someone that was excited to listen to him drone on like a twitter-pated fool about this ridiculously good looking, smooth talking Georgian man that stole his breath away with just a glance.

It lessened the sting of still not getting a call from the very person he was so eager to talk about. He wondered what was up, before convincing himself it wasn’t because he’d grown bored of him already. He was just busy, just like he’d been warned. 

He’d be fine. _He could wait, he’d be fine._


	2. Straight To Video

He woke up the next day with a pounding head and a rhythmic knocking at the door that sounded like someone was slamming their entire body on it instead. Wait, was it the next day? He’d been celebrating with Hurk for so long it had almost became a full blown bender, just drinking and blowing shit up. One day bled into the next without sleep…had he finally crashed? Where the Hell was Hurk? Another round of clanging at his door had him groaning and pushing himself off the couch to stretch and shuffle in a mostly dead stupor to throw the door open.

The resounding shriek made him flinch away, grabbing at his head. “Why the fuck—” He took a second to try and peek at who it was again, and yup, sure enough—Adelaide Drubman stood on his tiny porch currently turned away from him and trying her best to cover her eyes with an arm, the other clutching a thin box against her chest. “Fuck me, what kind of wake up service is this shit cause I need to complain to your manager ma’am.” He then realized by the breeze the reason she screamed was because he lacked pants. He actually lacked any clothes, and he darted back behind the door he left ajar with a sheepish look.

“Boy, would it kill you to put on some damn pants! I did not want to see that this early in the damn day! I didn’t wanna see that at all! Coulda gone my whole life without it, and that’d have been just peachy.” She whined loudly and he couldn’t help laughing when he heard her stomping about. He could only image the scene she was trying to make in the three square feet she had to work with. “Can you bleach your eyes?”

“Pretty sure you’ll go blind if you do that. And shows you! Shouldn’t be going around banging on doors so damn loudly.” He called back to her as he hunted around the room before finding a pair of jeans and tugging them on. He grabbed his sweatshirt and yanked it on over his before he went back to the door to show her it was safe again as he slipped his arms in place.

“No one deserves that, Sharky. Its gonna be there forever now.” She was whining again, but she as soon as she turned around she relaxed herself again. He leaned out of the door and he could see her new truck and the trailer attached to it was full yet again.

Sunlight cut through the clouds briefly to fall across his face, and he hissed before he skittered back into the dark. “Why are you here, Aunt Addie? I was sleeping off a Hell of a bender.” He left the door open, and she picked up the invitation and stepped through. When the door was shut though, it almost became too dark and he hunted for a light switch with exasperation.

“Well I got more shit for you to burn. That and a package for you got delivered to me by mistake.” She was using a different tone than usual, the one she used when she wanted a favor that would most likely mean him being in varying degrees of pain. Like those beehives she’d asked him to remove before. He shuddered at the memory before he realized she was holding the package out to him now.

He took it with curious hands, wondering who the hell would have bothered sending him anything, though she didn’t need to know this was a surprise. He saw the scrawling handwriting and the faint smudging of ink at the finer edges and he was grinning. “Wasn’t a mistake. I don’t trust Uncle Hurk not to go through my mail.” He answered truthfully as he brushed his fingers over the other man’s name on the box, before he was retreating to the kitchen to find a knife with his aunt close behind. “That and no one wants to deliver out here anymore.” They’d stopped after the last time he’d been testing different fire starters and something exploded—which was not the goal that time and it had been incredibly embarrassing.

“Both very fair points. But I’m just as nosy, I just don’t go around invading privacy behind people’s backs like that piece of shit; I do it to their face. I didn’t open it up but I did check out who it’s from. And now I wanna see what’s in it.” Her voice brought him back to the task at hand and he found what he was looking for, sliding the blade through the tape with ease before he opened the box slowly. “So is this John Seed related to the Seeds I’m thinking about?”

He wasn’t paying attention to her now, not in the slightest. The smell of _his_ cologne filled the surrounding area and he was giddy before he pulled the tissue back gently. There was a folded bit of paper, a letter he was assuming, and underneath that seemed to be a frame of some sort; he was just guessing by the corners that peeked through the bubble wrap. He picked up the letter first, turning to lean against the counter to read it quietly.

  
_‘My Dear Charlemagne,_  
_I will apologize first for the fact that I have not yet called._  
_I’m afraid I broke my phone when I was getting off the plane,_  
_and it’ll be a few days since I've written this that it’ll be fixed._  
_Thank God for priority mail and nosy brothers, I’d have gone mad._  
_I can’t imagine how you’re feeling. Rest assured,_  
_you still very much have my attention._  
_I’ve enclosed my own proof as insurance._  
_I promise I’ll call you._  
_Sincerely yours,_  
_John Seed’_

He sat down the letter, a weight being lifted off of him. He must have sent this off fairly quickly, worried about his nerves. He even implied he'd gotten Jacob to find an address for him. This man may have been one of the first people to realize he worried endlessly about everything. It had to be the isolation for most of his life that had him clinging to any kind of praise or decent action. He moved for the gift now, carefully cutting away the tape and unrolling the bubble wrap from it slowly.

When it gave way, he held a very nice wooden framed photo. The frame itself was a dark wood with silver inlays like veins running through the probably expensive wood. The picture was of John, his shirt opened to reveal his chest and a very new tattoo. He’d seen a lot of the other’s body, and often enough to memorize every line on his skin. And the ring of shark teeth on his left peck was very new, the skin around it dusted a light pink from irritation and the image bright against his skin. It took him a few slow blinks, pulling the photo up closer to take in every bit of detail—like the way he seemed to be glowing in the aftermath of the process, or the way the smile he was giving the camera was the same one he had ingrained into his memory now—before the thought struck him like lightning. _‘He was serious when he said he’d never disappear…I’m fucking inked in his skin now.’_ He was grinning widely at the extravagant gesture made to reassure him.

The low wolf whistle beside him snapped his attention back to his company, and immediately his was blushing deeply. _‘Oh fuck, another conversation to be had. So excited, I can’t believe I’m this damn lucky. Twice in as many days.’_  He braced himself for some kind of outrage, but instead he could feel her gripping his arm lightly. “If that’s John then he is related to the Seeds! You can tell by those eyes. Oh look at all that ink too. And are those scars? I bet he likes it rough. Hell, I bet he likes it when you call him ‘sir’.”

“He does.” He admitted quietly, and watched for her reaction. Which he discovered to be slugging his shoulder before telling him to shut up. Then it clicked into place and she was watching him with wide eyes as she leaned away from him as if taking him in for the first time in his life. He’d almost be insulted if he didn’t naturally expect it.

“What? You—no way. You’ve had…wait, no.” She was fumbling over words, a stutter stop as she considered her own thoughts. She began to pace quietly— _‘That must run in the blood, trying to out run thoughts so you can stay clear-headed’_ —before she dropped a fist into a open hand and he knew she’d found what she was looking for. “You’re bi! Holy fuck on a stick how did I not see that?”

He laughed at that, before he offered his own counter point. “How come I didn’t see it?”

She screwed her face up like he’d asked a dumb question. “Cause it’s in your damn nose so much you can’t see it. Forest from the trees.” The explanation was simple, and he could accept that for what it was from her—for all he knew she very much had a point there. “Your taste in men is a lot better than your taste in women. Just saying.”

He dropped his eyes back down to that photo, dramatically captured and framed forever. “No, you’re right. He’s pretty damn great.” He’d be setting this up somewhere he’d see it a lot.

“Easy on the eyes too. Never thought I’d live to see the day I said this to you—but goddamn am I jealous!” Addie’s tone was laced with that raunchy tone she used so often and it made him wince a bit, a spark of jealousy at her own declaration that increased with her next statement. “God, this man could lay me out and have at me with just the wink of an eye.”

“That’s really all it took me. And can you please stop talking about my boyfriend that way?” Sharky countered, before moving to set the frame up on the tiny dining table in the kitchen.

“Wait, he’s your boyfriend?” She was flitting along by his side, grinning ear to ear. “So not only did you nail him, you locked it down too? I’ve never felt more proud of you. It’s a weird feeling.”

“Good to finally know what your standards are for that.” He responded in a tone that was as close to dry as he could every let it get as she patted him on the back. “I’m also glad you’re fucking taking this so well. I think you and Hurk are taking this better than I am at moments.”

“Do I look like I’m close minded?” Now she gave him a look of almost offense, before she huffed a bit before tapping him on the chest a little harsher than she needed to. “I left all that shit behind when I filed for my divorce and took what was mine. I wanted to live my life as open and as free as I felt, and you get to do that too.” He nodded along, knowing what she meant. _I’m not the one you need to worry about._  For a moment, he just felt glad Hurk Sr wasn’t technically his uncle anymore. He could just avoid him altogether for the rest of his life and live in this bubble of support he was being given.

Again he was snapped from his thoughts when he felt her pat his shoulder now, a gentler action than he was used to from her that matched her tone. “You…I don’t think you ever really got a chance to figure it out and then you were just left to your own devices. Your world just expanded honey, it’s a little topsy-turvy right now. You’ve got vertigo from staring at the horizon head on for so long—it’s normal. Now come help me unload this shit.” The unexpected advice was given, and then she was turning to head out to the trailer. He hurried up after her barely remembering to shove his shoes on before traipsing about his own yard.

It was a little easier after that, knowing that who mattered to him—all of two people—were just happy he was happy. Or at least he was inclined to believe that, putting that positive foot forward. And knowing why he hadn’t gotten a call yet helped calm his nerves more than he had realized he’d needed. Things were looking up, and he couldn’t help but falling just a touch more down the rabbit hole John was leading him down. _‘I think I might love him…that’s crazy, right?’_  He shook off the thought and kept moving—he just had to keep moving.

Still no call that evening, but it should be any day now. He went to bed that night with a smile on his face, surprised by the comfort of knowing that he was forever engraved in John’s skin; a promise he hadn’t asked for but one he was so glad he’d been gifted.


	3. A Failure Played In Stereo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those tags come into effect now.

He lived in his little bubble of support for maybe twelve hours. His aunt had hung around as he unloaded the trailer and began stacking things up with a concentration he only had when it came to burning things. He supposed he was thankful for the distraction because Addy’s approval and support came with increasingly more invasive questions as the night dragged on. She offered liquor though, pulling a bottle of tequila out of her truck and around to where he stood in front of the structure; by the time half the bottle was gone, and the fire climbed high into the evening sky he was answering pretty much everything.

And he pushed aside the embarrassment that mattered less with his increasing buzz because this was something rare in its own right. His aunt could barely stand him on the best of days, but that night she stood with her arm thrown around his shoulders telling him she was proud of him. She was proud of him for being open, for being himself, for wanting to be happy. She promised to be there for anything, and the validation her loud voice carried in it soothed wounds he hadn’t realized had been bleeding. He clung to it for as long as he could, until she left as soon as she’d heard Xander calling to her from the radio she’d had at her hip. 

But the moment she was gone, and he was alone with his thoughts again, he was quickly dragged back into the darkness he was trying to outpace. When had he become so starved for approval? His parents hadn’t been necessarily neglectful, but they hadn’t been necessarily proud. Looking back on his childhood, he realized they’d been only loving enough he couldn’t see the bad. Nothing he did could ever catch their attention for too long, only prompting an automatic response of one kind or another. A few phrases stuck out in his memory. _‘Good job, Charlemagne.’ ‘Yeah, buddy, that’s real good!’_ All generic, but it always left him with a want for more; more attention, more praise, _more approval._ He laughed at himself when it clicked into place as he stared into the churning flames. “Solved that mystery. Who says you need therapy to know why you’re broken?” The words were for the element he was captivated by, and he figured it was time to have this discussion with himself.

He knew why he was tied to it—at least for the most part. The first time he’d been entrusted to set up a camp fire at the age of ten, he’d realized quick he’d had a knack for it. It also came with a rush of power being in control of something so easily destructive and yet so captivating. It was always dancing, always swaying—tempting in its own whispers of warmth, and he almost wished he could curl up among the burning leaves because it feels like home. From that moment on, he was finding more ways to watch it twist about with the rhythm of his pulse.

With it came the attention he’d always wanted. With every thwarted attempt to start the trailerpark on fire, his parents eyes had been on him more. Yes they yelled, yes they were upset—but for the next few days after each punishment they spent more time with him than they ever had. They’d tell him stories, or ask him to help with chores. And for a while, he got to pretend they were like those families on TV.

Looking on it as an adult, with that heavy filter of nostalgia just slightly tinted with his darkening thoughts…it was really sad. It sounded like a sob story, even in his own head. And he hated it. He didn’t want to tell it to anyone, but he more importantly didn’t want to tell John—let alone himself for that matter—but he knew he had to. _‘Every good thing starts in trust, right? Honesty is the best policy.’_ Forcing his thoughts past his own self-loathing he looked at his parents. He wasn’t ever sure if they ever loved each other, or if they ever loved him if he was being as honest as he was preaching to himself. He hadn’t been planned, no he’d been what tied them together because both were too stubborn to move on even if it would have been better if they had. They cared for him, he was their blood. But it always felt like it was guilt that led their actions, and never love. Nothing ever felt genuine, which is why it was so confusing in every aspect. He didn’t know what it was.

The crackling of thicker branches in the fire brought his bouncing downward spiral back onto the track of fire. He’d kept setting fires, kept getting in trouble—but it had never gone too far. It hadn’t ever gotten out of hand until the disastrous date at the roller rink at thirteen, when his parents hadn’t been there to clean up his mess. Three other buildings had burnt completely down, and somehow no one had saw him do it in his childish fit of rage, but his parents knew. And that’s when everything fell apart. They didn’t pay him much mind at all after that point, besides a few disappointing sighs when he caught their eye, after they’d deemed him a lost cause. His father was the first to stop coming home as much, spending his free time at the bars or in other women’s beds. Then his mother started going out more in a bitter half-hearted retaliation to a man she’d never felt tied to. And that’s when he started taking care of himself more.

And that was also when fire became his only companion. He’d put together his first fire pit, much smaller than the one he stood in front of now. But he knew how to stoke it, how to keep it going. It soothed his aching soul and he knew it could scorch his edges if he wasn’t careful. As a result, he got better at safety and started learning how to construct bonfires the right way. When he’d reached high school, he was invited to most parties for that fact alone. You always hire the pyromaniac to set up your bonfires, its basic common sense. Even when he’d dropped out of high school, he was still invited to those parties—he just didn’t have the stress of that particular failure that no one really cared about anymore beyond a couple curious teachers. But no one was his friend and he just did different tricks with the dancing flames.

He holed up in himself and his small collection of family that stayed behind and he taught himself how to live. His father died in a car accident, and his mother ran off with some guy she fell in love with. He remembered feeling happy for her when his aunt had told him when she’d checked in on her sister’s kid. He was often recruited around her home for odd jobs she’d pay him for so he could survive, but she’d never opened her home to him. He suspected that’s because there wasn’t much love there either, and she was sparing him of that abysmal ending everyone could see coming. Well, everyone but Hurk Jr. that was. That had been his other adult figure for a while as well, and his only friend. Which is why he’d told John his cousin was probably his best friend. He was his only friend, so he supposed that automatically qualified him for the part. But even with that tie, the other started travelling and then he was alone a lot more.

After that, life had just been surviving each day and trying to outrun the dark thoughts with every bit of effort he could expend. He worked odd jobs, drank a lot, and set the trailer park on fire once. Okay three times. They’d shut the park down when everyone else scattered like bugs, but he’d stayed behind as a particularly flammable squatter. After so long the property had been put in his name when they’d deemed it too much of a loss to go through the hassle of trying to uproot him. _‘The benefits of being a very angry and very cocky pyro when your landlord is some rich city prick in another state that’s too afraid to come out and raise his own fists.’_ Aunt Addy brought him a generator, so he could survive winter. The rest of the year it was like camping out all the time, but it felt humbling in a way. He had needed that.

It still didn’t stop him from getting in trouble with the law. No he’d spent his fair share of nights in drunk tanks or jail cells for a number of things; from bar fights to arson that sometimes went unnoticed he suspected out of the occasional fit of pity. And through it all, the only true constant he had was routine and the flame that called him back home all the time. He was locked back firmly into reality when another fit of self doubt set in as he wondered if John knew all these truths— _‘Would he still want me?’_ He was a lawyer, he was smart, and he clearly had his shit together. _‘Why stay when he knows the truth? High school drop out, no friends, criminal record. Fuck what was I thinking?’_

It took his remaining effort to convince himself everything was fine, until the last embers of the fire burned out and he’d gone through and made sure it was extinguished and he’d forced himself to make a sandwich and eat it. He was exhausted down to his bones when he shuffled off to his bed, the phone beside the bed taunting him as it refused to ring. He fell asleep with some burden understood, and some remaining unknown that was still weighing him down when he woke up the next morning earlier than he’d ever want to. But the moment his eyes were open, that anxious feeling was closing in and he couldn’t go back to sleep. 

So he almost screamed that _frankly this was horseshit_ when Hurk Jr. pulled up in a car with orders to retrieve him. “Dad says there’s branches needing cut, and he was gonna hire some kids to come do it. But I thought you’d like the job, cuz.”

Envy swept over at him at the other’s oblivious state of being and he felt an immediate need to shatter it. “He was never gonna hire those made up kids, he just thinks I’m desperate.” His tone was sharper than he had intended, and it ripped out of his throat harsh enough to make himself wince.

The other watched him for a moment, and a range of facial expressions crossed his features; confusion, wonderment, then immediate acceptance. “Yeah, well…fuck, you’re right Sharky. Man why didn’t I realize that?” Another stab of jealousy hit him, but he swallowed this one down. “So, you coming?”

He sighed heavily, before he snuffed out the cigarette he’d been smoking on the porch railing. He did need a bit of money, and he could use the distraction of mindless yard work. “Yeah, let me grab my gloves and change into my boots.” As he went to do just that, he told himself it’d be fine if he just avoided his ‘uncle’—his sour mood was already atrocious, he didn’t want to have to deal with the man’s scathing remarks towards his own son or the judgments he felt the need to voice of him when he wasn’t cutting down the former. Again he felt an envy at the other’s ability to let everything just roll right off him.

Again that hope had been crushed, because the moment he’d stepped foot out of the car he was greeted with a foreign sight. Hurk Drubman Sr., standing up with his arms crossed and his furious expression turned solely on him for a change. He’d done his very best for most of his life to stay out of his line of sight the best he could. These lectures had become a big source of discomfort in his life that he’d always tried to block out. But he had a bigger source of fear about what it was about this time around, and he hated that he felt ashamed. This man was nothing to him now but an occasional employer, and despite what had been drilled into his head by himself—he deserved respect. But in the depths he’d already reached in this pit he was currently spiraling down, this was going to be a very bad day.

As he frowned in response to the older man’s dower expression, huffing as he slammed the door and shuffled over to him. “Where are the branches?” He kept his tone level, holding eye contact like he was stronger than he was. His cousin floated into view in his peripheral, but he didn’t dare glance away right now. 

“Well, they’re right on ove—” The bubbly voice of his best friend broke through the suffocating quiet, but the older man held up his hand to point a stern finger his way as he finally broke his gaze away from Sharky to glare at his son. 

“And how in the Hell could you know where I want him to be cutting down branches when I didn’t tell you where they were?” The voice that carried so much venom was booming, but when it wasn’t directed at him Sharky felt nothing but hatred for it. He hated how he kicked his own son around, and he never could understand why he did. But it did explain the guilt flooding him at the relief of taking a moment to breathe and tug his cap lower over his face. “You’re goddamn hopeless. Now get on out of here. Today I’m gonna help Charlemagne find his work—and find his place.” That phrase had him fidgeting at the sleeves of his sweatshirt as he turned to look at his cousin now.

He watched hesitation set in, before a general wariness of that idea. “I don’t know if—” He wasn’t as oblivious as he let on, knowing how much Sharky wanted anything else. He was immediately cut short, the senior’s voice rising a few octaves. _‘Run.’_

“Did that sound like a fucking suggestion? What ever gave you the idea I was fishing for your opinion?” He growled at that, but merely watched his feet as Hurk looked away in his own shame again. _‘Why don’t you ever move? Why don’t I? Why don’t either of us just fucking say something…’_

“I’m sorry.” Hearing the quiet words next to him cracked his broken heart a little more, and he watched his eyes drop to the ground in another small defeat. 

“Yeah you are, now fuck off.” Senior grunted, before he waved him off.

“Yes sir.” He watched him drift off at that, before he found himself alone in the senior Drubman’s dissonant gaze. For a minute he thought the world was occasionally just vibrating around him, but he realized that was just his body twitching in an anticipated flight response. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t running, instead following the other along to the shed to grab the tools and get ready. And was it bravery or stupidity that led him along behind the older man grumbling about something he couldn’t hear through the pulse singing in his ears. He pulled his gloves on, walking along to a tree that loomed over the fence line in the front just enough to be concerning. He sighed when it clicked into place this was never about the work, and at this point who knows if this was even worth the effort of leaving his constant companion at home.

The action caught the other’s attention, and his squinting gaze had his breath frozen in his throat immediately. But he merely widened his own eyes in return, offering a shrug that didn’t feel like it came from him. He wasn’t sure what let him move through all this torment, but he had to keep his image up. Had to keep his shields in place as he just waited for the other to speak. He couldn’t be a coward here, not now.

He cleared his throat, a jarring sound that grated against his nerves as he lifted the clippers up to start clipping at the branches. “As you know, if I’m going to running for senate—or anything really—I’ve gotta keep my ears open for every dirty secret I can find. And imagine my surprise when I find out the people I choose to associate with have been keeping some concerning things from a few important people. And forgetting who else’s name they can hurt doing stupid shit. It’s bad enough that bitch kept my last name when she stole everything from me.” He’d made quite a bit of progress done on clipping, but he hadn’t registered the face he was starting to make to keep from snapping out a defense. He didn’t need to fight his aunt’s battles; she was more than strong enough to handle those herself. “Smearing my good name all over this county just to destroy my reputation.” He cut the thicker branch a little harder than he needed to, trying to vent his frustration any way he could as the senior Drubman continued past his unavoidable tantrum about his ex-wife before dismissing her existence again.

“But that’s not why we’re here. I heard from the grapevine you spent the weekend with that lawyer boy coming in from the city. You went damn near everywhere he did, except ironically Church, and you were…” He froze as the words were finally said, a lot sooner than he’d been expecting. “Close.” The finishing word held a disgust that made Sharky squirm in his skin. _‘Of course. This is the only way this could have ever fucking gone.’_

“You know, not that it’s really any of your business but his name’s John.” His voice was lower than he meant it to be, wavering a bit and giving away his unease.

He was met with a thundering shout that made him jerk back. “I don’t want to know his fucking name! You know why we’re talking.” The next sentence was at a lower volume, like he was afraid his neighbors miles away would hear. _‘Yeah I fucking do. I’m not as stupid as you think I am you old man shaped fart.’_ “Its not natural—”

Sharky started giggling then, those nervous laughs that bubbled up the back of his throat and he started shaking his head. He cut him off with his words before he realized what he was doing, and that got him to laughing harder as panic set in. “You know what, neither is wanting to climb into a fire motherfucking constantly but hey, still alive.”

“This is not the same as your weird fucking fascination with an early death. This is about—” There was that fluctuating volume again, loud anger followed by hushed loathing. The panic started to give way to slow burning anger, which immediately doubled at the next question. “What about all those women you’ve been with. What was wrong with them?”

“Nothing, asshole. Nothing’s wrong with nobody man, I just…like this guy, alright? I like both. Why does this have to be a big deal every fucking time it comes out? Why are we judging each other for bullshit when we’re all just human?” He was jumping to the defense quick, vaguely answering questions because this was all still new and confusing but being told he wasn’t natural? Being told he wasn’t human—that something had to be wrong, _with others or himself?_ He had to make a decision for himself soon, and he was gearing to burn up the area around him in the downfall. He blinked out of the darkening haze around the corners of his eyes when the other asked another question.

“Who else knows?” That was the flash point, and he was stepping back to jab the air in emphasis as his own volume started raising.

“Who the fuck do you think? I talk to three people but you know that. You know everything apparently. Like some kind of backwoods spy bullshit, no one in this county can find a lick of privacy.” Sharky was grinning manically as he bounced from foot to foot. He could see his cousin in the distance, floating at the edge of the drive like a hummingbird trapped in a cage. “Can’t keep somethings just sacred to myself.” 

“Wait, so Adde—goddamn it Charlemagne! She’s gonna be running that off now too—” The sound of betrayal in his voice finally stopped the laughter and wiped the grin from his face. He would have taken joy in the flinch he gained—to think he could ever be intimidating—but he was too close to boiling over.

“You know, maybe not. Maybe Aunt Addy would respect me instead of thinking I’m always doing something to hurt her. You know, one of the great things about her—she may embarrass the crap out of you but she wrings that shame from your bones and in the end she’d keep that shit to herself because it ain’t her damn business. I’m sure she talks to Xander about it, but guess what you don’t wanna hear—he’s a pretty goddamn great guy. He taught me about auras and cleansing my chakras or opening them or some shit and it was actually fucking enlightening.” The words started, the tangent slipping from him and building in intensity with his anger as he started opening the door to that decision.

“Hey now—”

He screamed loudly as he threw the large pair of clippers now, impaling them into the ground a few feet away from the sad excuse for a human standing in front of him. “YOU KNOW WHAT? No! No, it’s your turn to shut the fuck up. You know, at least Xander cares about Aunt Addy. Hell, he’s just cares about everyone period. Ain’t no strings attached to that man’s soul. And you know what else?” He was closing in now, pulling himself up to his full height to tower over the other as he lifted a finger to wag in his face while he clenched the other hand to his side. “John is great—he’s fucking incredible actually and when he smiles he lights up like sunshine and stardust and you’d be lying if you said it was anything but fucking glorious. So why am I suffering here? Why am I listening to you complain about me just wanting to be happy, with _someone who actually likes me?_ Why do I need the approval of a curmudgeonly old asshole with the demeanor of a dried out biscuit filled with sour cream that’s been sitting in the sun too long to be safe?” Those were honest questions because he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to please everyone around him ever.

Then it clicked the rest of the way home and he grinned. He didn’t have to. He didn’t have many people in his life currently, but it would be worth the loss to get rid of the extra negativity weighing him down. “It’s fucking bullshit, really. Every part of being human is fucking bullshit. And here we are, right now, fighting about how I’m somehow trying to hurt you when even I don’t know what the fuck is going on or why I feel like I’m drowning in my own breath eighty percent of the time.” As he said it, he suddenly felt the burn in his lungs like he was breathing through wet cloth. “I just wanted to work, get paid, and go grab some groceries. You know—like normal fucking people, like I do every fucking time I see you. And of all the days, it had to be today right?” 

He spun away from, grabbing the front of his hoodie as he tried to focus on taking deep breaths when he heard the offended tone of his uncle—no, this stranger—start up again. “Now listen here—”

He yelled a short sound, shaking his head. “I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP. I don’t care. I shouldn’t ever have. You’re mean, you do nothing but hurt, and you just bring out so much hatred and anger in me that I’m actually afraid I might set your home on fire. I think the only thing stopping that is your son, whom you kick out once every couple weeks. Its really only a matter of patience, and I know that—and that bothers me. So fuck your job, and fuck your pity money.” His expression darkened with each word, forcing the words out harder than he wanted to because he felt like they were being swallowed by that darkness surrounding his vision now. “My humanity isn’t worth it, you know? Nah, of course you don’t. Other people aren’t people to you. Think that makes you some kind of psycho…”

He spun around to stumble down the path towards where he could still see Hurk hovering with concern. “And here I thought you might be worth something eventually. But you’re just determined to throw yourself down a hole without any kind of rope.” He stopped in his tracks, taking a deep breath as best as he could as he forced himself to keep moving forward. _‘I’m not taking your noose.’_

“Gonna stop you there—not hanging myself with the rope you’re trying to toss me there. That’s just gonna lead to hating myself, and jokes on you—I already do that.” He answered without looking back, unable to stay silent entirely as he stepped through that metaphorical door before slamming it behind him. He pretended to just notice his cousin moving in on him now. “Hey Junior! Can you take me home?”

“Uh, yeah. You sure?” Hurk asked the question as he already started moving to the car, and he felt an appreciation for that last little silent push to leave. _‘Even Hurk thinks we need to go.’_

“You know what. I damn well am. Come on, let’s get out of here.” He responded, pulling open the passenger seat door to collapse into the old seat. He yanked the door shut, and closed his eyes to just breathe. 

When he opened his eyes again, he noticed his trailer before him before the voice next to him hit his ears. “Hey, man we’re here. You gonna be okay homie? Want me to hang around?” He smiled softly for a minute before shaking his head. 

“Maybe later. Right now, I just want to sleep. Feel like I ain’t slept in months.” Sharky responded, before climbing out of the car. “But maybe…you should move in. Got like…three other trailers to choose from. You can have your own space, get away from assholes who don’t appreciate you when you’re not traveling.” He took a long moment before he proposed the question, and the other seemed confused for a second before he grinned and started nodding.

“Hell yeah! We’ll talk more later okay? I’ll come wake you up.” He gave his agreement, heading to his front porch. He watched the other drive off again before he dropped down on the steps to light a cigarette.

As he exhaled slowly, watching the smoke trailing up and away from him into the blue sky, he felt the ground start falling away beneath him. He let himself drop into that pit of self loathing and shame he was so comfortable in, not having the energy to run from it this time. He sagged against the wood, using all of his attention to focus on the cigarette between his lips. His pulse skipped in his throat, and his veins felt like they were fluttering beneath his skin. The sunlight filtering down through the thick Montana clouds fell on his face and he could do little to avoid its glare right then beyond dropping his gaze down to the ground again.

But before he could truly spiral into anything, he heard an unusual sound breaking the silence surrounding him. A trill sound of ringing was at the edges of his senses, and it took a long moment for it to click into place what that was. _The phone._ He bolted up as sudden energy flooded into him and he dug through his pockets to find his damn keys. He threw his pack of smokes out, the gloves he’d stripped from his hands at some point, and three different lighters before he snagged the ring he was hunting for. He struggled to get the door unlocked before throwing it open and bolting to the device in question.

He jerked it off the base, clicking the answer button as he dropped it. He fumbled with it a couple times before he caught it and shouted a brief triumph as he pulled it up to his ear. “Hello, you got Sharky. How can I help you, amigo?” He was smiling at no one, bouncing from foot to foot again in anticipation. He answered breathlessly, panting a bit.

“My god have I missed your voice.” John’s smooth voice flooded over him and he felt every tightened muscle in his body ease up all at once. It was such a relief, he physically sagged to the floor until his back rested against the counter with a slowly spreading grin. _‘He called, he fucking called.’_ “I’ve been going mad over here, what with the chaos that took place while I was gone and then the whole phone thing. Dropped it right as I stepped off the plane face down on the concrete. With as much as it cost, you’d think it could handle a minor tumble to the ground—”

He listened as John slipped into one of his little tangents, and he just soaked it up. His calming tone reached into every corner of his pulsing, aching soul with his bare open wounds finally finding a bit of comfort. Every bit of the stress had been worth it, knowing he hadn’t been forgotten. And the relief in the other to hear him as well made the butterflies in his stomach take flight. “I fucking love you.” He blurted out the words before he could stop them, and he felt his heart seize up as the other fell into a stunned silence. “You don’t have to say anything. Fuck, why did I say that? My bad, amigo, I done fucked right up. It’s too soon, I know—” He was stumbling over himself in that misplaced panic again, before a soft shushing sound carried through the phone in his shaking hand.

“Its okay, Charlemagne. I’m not upset.” John’s voice was quieter than it usually was, but he didn’t hear anything that actually sparked a fear in him when he focused on it. But the words didn’t make sense. He wasn’t upset? Those were big words weren’t they? He’d said them very sparingly in his life, and every time they’d been met with silence before they’d inevitably run away like frightened deer.

“Oh…you’re not?” He wasn’t sure why he asked the question, and for it he received an indignant huff that pulled a sobbing laugh from his own chest in return. He lifted his hands up to wipe away the tears that had crept up on him, swiping at his face with his sleeves as he listened to the other.

“Of course not. I care quite a bit about you too.” The words were still soft, a confession between the two of them. He gripped at this private little moment of theirs tightly, afraid of drowning in himself right now. “I just…have trouble with those words.” It took him a moment to realize the other couldn’t see him nodding in vigorous agreement.

“Yeah, fucking me too.” Sharky answered, a giddy little laugh escaping him. _He cares about me._

“How about you tell me what has happened since I’ve left, and I’ll see what I can do to help from here.” John’s suggestion had him grinning again. He was quick to try a find a solution, or at least something to soften the blows. He was a man of grand gestures, a fact proved by the framed photo of John that sat at his dining table. _‘So I’m never eating alone.’_ He blushed brightly at that realization, and he finally pulled himself up off the ground to go retrieve his dropped things and shut his front door. He’d broken his cigarette somewhere in his frantic shuffle and he got a new one lit as he settled down to curl up on the couch to start talking.

He told him about each of his encounters with his various remaining family members, telling them in order. He took moments to relive each feeling as he talked about them; his honest surprise in his cousin’s quick acceptance and generally happiness for him, or the pride and affection his aunt had expressed towards him. He stalled at the final confrontation then, the most recent and raw. 

He finally let himself break down, and his fears of oversharing were discovered to be unfounded when he found the other offering calming words of encouragement for burning that bridge down. He was also given a promise that if “that ignorant piss ant tries running for anything, he won’t get past the starting line before I rip apart his chances myself”, to quote him exactly. The anger in the other’s tone was intense, and he found himself offering those same calming tones of promise and care. This promise was soon followed up with promises of gifts for his Aunt and his cousin when they met—and talk of a dinner involving both their families.

That evening he spent every moment he could on the phone with his boyfriend, and every day after that until he was scheduled to fly back out they called. It was always in the evening, and it always lasted several hours. He found a whole new anticipation building up in him again, excited for the next time they were together. He’d waited this long, he could wait another week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long. This was a very personal chapter, but it did help heal a few things. Sharky got to do what I didn't--he said his piece, he walked away, and he burned that bridge. It took me far too long to do that. I hope you enjoyed this, and I do still have stories in mind for this series. There's just a certain pet project that has had my attention (when I've been able to write =.=) that I'd ultimately like to starting posting starting next month. But I would like to have a good portion of it written before I start posting it.

**Author's Note:**

> written while listening to "Straight To Video" by Mindless Self Indulgence on repeat
> 
> Owl, if you're reading this, I hope you appreciated that special little line in there. I'm sure you know which one ;D <3


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